


The Little Things

by InfinityAgent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityAgent/pseuds/InfinityAgent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles and one-shots centered around the dynamic between Coulson and Fitz (Phitz)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost But Not Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the first season

Maybe it had been luck that I’d turned around when I did, maybe it was pure intuition. Either way, the sight of one of Fitz’s little drone things (Dwarfs, he called them?) was just the beacon of hope I’d needed as reassurance. They were fine. Of course they were; they were top of the line agents. And obviously they’d devised a plan to get us out of this mess (alive). I hadn’t really been expecting them to blow a giant hole in the side of my plane, but everything had worked out in the end. Fury had torn into me a little, but I didn’t take it personally. 

Now, we had nothing to do but rest for a couple of days until the Bus was back in operation. Everyone was in good spirits except Fitz, who was off sulking because S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t let him re-design the labs or really have any input on the repairs at all. I had just the thing to cheer him up. 

I walked into the room silently, with the small box behind my back. I hoped I didn’t look too suspicious. The young engineer glanced over his shoulder once, before returning his attention to the large metal box on the table. As I got closer, I recognized it as the one where he stored his drones. There was an empty slot.

“Which one was it?” I carefully asked, trying to sound more interested than I actually was. 

“Sneezy.” Fitz muttered, “Number 05.”

“Oh.” I hummed, doing my best to sound sympathetic over the loss of an inanimate object. “If it weren’t for… Sneezy… we might not all be here right now.” This got a small smile out of him, but it disappeared as quickly as it’d come. 

“I’m responsible for keeping them safe.” Fitz closed the storage box. “I knew that the flight generators wouldn’t be powerful enough to fight against…” He trailed off. “It ah, hit a piece of debris on the way out; I lost control of its movements but the camera was still intact. Soon as it hit the water, feeds just cut out. Never got around to water-proofing them.” Coulson had a feeling that Fitz was talking mostly to himself than anything. Their conversation wasn’t exactly going as Phil had hoped. So far he’d only managed to put the engineer in a worse mood than before. 

“It would have a tracking device though, wouldn’t it?” 

“Of course,” The Scot scoffed as if it was an obvious answer, “But we’re not over S.H.I.E.L.D. protected waters so retrieval is next to impossible.”

“Hmm.” Now would be as good of a time as any. “I’m sorry about that.” Then, after a slight pause, “I have something for you.” I held out the small box to him. Fitz took it without a word, looking at me questioningly. “Just open it.” He did as he was told and to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

“Sneezy!” Fitz exclaimed, snatching his lost drone from the packaging. “How did you-”

“The Peruvian Government had to go fish bodies out of the ocean. They saw this floating nearby and figured they’d return it along with… other means of thanks.” But that was classified. “I thought it’d cheer you up.” The wide grin plastered across my engineer’s face said it all. I couldn’t help but smile in return. I was happy when my people were happy. Most of the time. 

“Thank you.” He still seemed a little stunned. Fitz was inspecting the damages when someone walked past the doorway behind me. “Wait-” He leapt past me, scrambling to catch up with the passerby. “Simmons!” By now he had rounded the bend, drone in hand. “Look who came-” He was out of easy earshot now and I didn’t bother try to eavesdrop. I had better things to do anyways. I was just glad I could uplift the engineer’s mood.


	2. Return to Sender

The first time Phil noticed it was when they’d gone shopping for supplies after the HYDRA blowout. A lot of his team had run rampant around the store, throwing everything in the cart from potential weapons to reading materials to cookies. Fitz, however, had never strayed from Coulson’s side. Together they rejected some of the objects snuck into the shopping cart and made sure all of the necessities were covered. But the engineer himself never picked anything off the shelf. Phil hadn’t really thought anything of it, other than the possibility that the other man was bored and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Shopping wasn’t everybody’s forte. 

But then Coulson started to take note of other instances; the times when Fitz seemed to rather dismiss the idea of buying and spending. When some of the younger agents recklessly blew through their paychecks on expensive alcohols they thought made them seem more mature, Fitz would still be drinking the same old cheap beer like he’d never grown out of his college phase. Phil once caught Simmons trying to persuade Fitz into purchasing more ‘outfits’ one afternoon, when a chemical spill had accidentally burned a hole into one of his sweaters. The young man had scoffed at his partner’s suggestions, saying that he’d simply replace what was lost and that he liked what he already owned perfectly fine. As a man of few suits, Coulson had thought he’d understood Fitz’s reluctance. But perhaps he had been wrong.

“What are you saving up for?” Phil had lightheartedly asked the engineer, testing the waters a little.

“A monkey.” Fitz shot back, before quickly chuckling a little and giving a more reasonable answer. “Nothing really, maybe a new set of sensors for the Retrievers.” Coulson had nodded and let the man on his way, but was suspicious of the answer. Fitz knew if there were any upgrades to be made on any of the equipment, the money would come from the treasury, not his own personal bank account. The whole thing had sounded a bit rehearsed, as if Fitz had prepared for the question in advance. It was all very confusing, but maybe Coulson was just reading too hard into the situation. Making something out of nothing. Besides, who was he to care if the young man hoarded his savings instead of blowing it away? It was the wiser thing to do anyway.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that another strange Fitz-related incident occurred. Naturally, Coulson was in charge of all of the mail, though they rarely ever received any. So it caught his interest when a letter came in the mail, marked ‘return to sender’. It was addressed to an ‘Avalon Fitz’ at some health center Phil had never heard of before. Coulson could only assume, since the ‘sender’ was his engineer, that the intended recipient was Fitz’s only living relative: his mother. Why would a letter be necessary when they all had access to phones and e-mail? Curiosity got the better of him. Though he wasn’t proud to admit it, Phil held the envelope against his desk light. The individual details were hard to make out, but inside was quite clearly a check. Fitz was sending money to his mother? To a ‘health center’, whatever that was? 

A sickly feeling rose up inside Coulson’s stomach as he set the white paper back down on his desk, rubbing his temple. He didn’t know the exact circumstances, but he didn’t have to be a literal rocket scientist to begin to put together the pieces. Would it be too personal to check in on the kid? Fitz was a personal, closed-off kind of guy and Phil certainly didn’t want to upset him. But he had to make sure the young agent was alright. Everyone on his team needed to be in good condition if they had any hope of taking down Garrett and his team. So it was resolved. 

“Fitz…” Phil poked his head into his makeshift workstation, where he was fiddling with a few of Trip’s gadgets. He claimed he was just making sure they were all still capable of working properly, but Coulson suspected that the engineer really just wanted to look at the mechanics. “Can I talk to you for a second?” The moment after the words had left his mouth, Coulson regretted them. Sounded too serious. He wanted to go for a more semi-serious-but-still-casual kind of vibe. 

“Uh, yeah.” Fitz put down whatever was in his hand and dusted them off a little, looking towards Phil tensely. It wasn’t often that the pair had a one-on-one. Usually it was on a matter of high importance. “What is it?”

“Mail’s in.” Holding up the unopened envelope, Coulson waited for a response.

“That’s it?” Looking visibly relieved, Fitz got up to retrieve the paper. “You didn’t need to come all the way over here just for that…” When the young agent made a movement as if to take it from his boss’ hand, Phil ducked his arm away. Confused, Fitz hesitantly looked from Coulson to the letter. “Sir?” Phil sighed; there was no easy or casual way to go about this. He’d have to just kind of dive in and he hated that. Phil was more of a wet-your-feet-first kind of guy. 

“How’s your mom doing, Fitz?” It sounded awkward. “I haven’t heard you talk about her in a while.” The engineer’s face visibly reddened, as if he was growing more and more uncomfortable with the conversation by the second. 

“She’s fine.” Fitz mumbled, just barely audible.

“What’s her name again?” Just try to be cool about it. “Avalon?” 

“If you’d actually ever heard me talk about her, you’d know she goes by Ava.” The engineer snapped, agitated. Before Coulson could react, Fitz snatched the envelope out of his hand and stalked back over to the table. Almost like a dismissal. Phil wasn’t giving up that easily. 

“I’m asking because-” Because he was worried about Fitz. But that wasn’t something he could say out loud. Sighing, Coulson took his words in a different direction. “Why did it come back?” Maybe this would be easier.

“Forgot she was moved to a different facility.” Fitz responded, before realizing the implications and then he scowled. Coulson suspected it was because he’d given up more than he’d intended. Did he dare ask?

“What happened?” There it was; the question he’d been itching to ask since the beginning.

“An accident.” That seemed to be all that the young agent was willing to give up on the cause of the matter. “It’s expensive to keep her on-site, so you know...” Fitz was staring down at the table. Before the boss could ask anything else, the engineer tried to put an end to the conversation. “Look, I’ve got it under control, alright?”

“If you need money-”

“I said I’ve got it!” Fitz cut Coulson off, still not making eye contact. 

“Right, sorry.” Phil apologized, slowly backing towards the doorway. “Let me know if you need anything.” No more words were exchanged, and so Coulson took the hint and left his agent alone. Obviously it was a touchy subject. Though he’d pieced together the puzzle, Phil felt no better than he had when he was in the dark. He wished there was something he could do to help that Fitz would accept. Money was out of the question. Maybe there was nothing at the present that he could do, but Coulson was determined to figure something out.

As it turned out, the perfect opportunity arose only a couple of days later. Coulson had caught wind that a group of allies were taking refuge in St Andrews, Scotland. Although he was inclined to go by himself (and therefore minimalize casualties if it were a trap), it seemed almost sort of foolish to go without Fitz. Of course Simmons was a little sour that her lab partner was going without her, but Phil didn’t want to risk bringing her in case she wasn’t aware of Fitz’s situation. 

Using public transportation was something Phil had grown unaccustomed to. He was really going to have to see about getting his bus back. At first the plane ride was quiet; Fitz stared blankly out the window while Coulson read a newspaper he’d picked up at the airport. 

“I-I wanted to apologize.” Fitz said suddenly, head turning to face Coulson. 

“What?” It was merely a reflexive response, but it had come out sounding slightly rude. The young agent’s confidence visibly faltered. 

“For snapping at you the other day.” He quietly explained, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s ok.” Coulson softly smiled, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. “Will she be happy to see you?” The engineer nodded slowly at this. 

“I just need her to get better.” Fitz swallowed, looking down at his hands. “Ever since I left for the academy she’s been by herself…” It was hard for him to talk about this, Coulson could tell. He doubted Fitz had told anyone else though, so it would be rewarding for the both of them to just let the young agent talk it all out. “Ever since my dad died, it was always just her and me against the world.” Phil knew that Fitz’s father was absent, but he’d always just assumed it was a divorce case. He couldn’t believe he’d been so wrong. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to stay silent.

“My father was killed when I was a kid.” It wasn’t something he liked to remind himself of, but it was relevant. Fitz’s head snapped up, suddenly interested. Maybe the kid just didn’t think that anyone could understand the pain. Coulson felt pressed to say something more. “He was a police officer, shot in the line of duty.” 

“Oh.” The engineer looked bitterly disappointed. “He died a hero then. Mine wasn’t like that.” Fitz took a deep breath and Phil could see that the agent’s eyes weren’t as focused as they once were. He suddenly felt guilty for bringing it up. Apparently the tactic had backfired. “He went to plug in the speakers and the circuit overloaded.” Fitz leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes. “Electrocuted.” 

“Fitz-”

“I shouldn’t have had so many damned things plugged in.” He opened his eyes again and Phil could see that they were red-rimmed. “They told me not to, but I just had to use everything at once.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Coulson sighed. Tough on the engineer to lose his father to an electrical problem. Maybe it’s what caused Fitz to be so ambitious in the field. 

“I killed him.” Tears were running down the young agent’s face now, as he continued as if he hadn’t even heard Phil. 

“No!” The boss insisted, forcing Fitz to look him in the eye. “It could have been anything from the fridge to a hair dryer. Could’ve even been faulty wiring.” Not that he knew much about circuits or electricity or anything like that. 

“I won’t lose her.” It took Phil a minute to realize that Fitz was referring to Avalon now. And then it all made sense. Fitz felt helpless (even responsible, though that was ridiculous) about being able to do nothing about the spontaneous death of his father. And now that his mother was injured from whatever accident, the engineer had made it his mission to do all that he could to preserve her. “Any surgery she needs, I’m going to get it for her.” The resolve in the young agent’s broken voice was enough to make the corners of Coulson’s mouth twitch upwards. Leave it to Fitz to be so damned determined all the time. 

Fitz returned then to gazing out the window. Phil suspected this was because he was embarrassed about both crying and revealing so much about his family history to the boss. The young agent’s thoughts troubled Coulson, but that could be dealt with at a later time. He’d made sure that one way or another, Fitz had it ingrained on his mind that his father’s death was accidental. But the past was the past and would stay that way for another couple of days until they returned to America. Right now, they needed to focus on the potential allies and on Fitz’s recovering mom. He couldn’t believe he’d been blind to his own agent’s woes for so long, but he was glad he knew now. Maybe he could even arrange for an anonymous donation to be made from the treasury to the recovery center Avalon was staying at. The thought made him grin all the way across the ocean.


End file.
